


On Being Prepared

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Castiel, Caring Dean, Castiel in the Bunker, Domestic Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Smut, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-22 13:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: So Cas is human, and Dean's loved up, and Sam's loving every minute of teasing him for it. Dean just wants some alone time with Cas; away from hunting, away from everything, if possible.Sam, of course, has found them a case.Only, Sam's gets himself food poisoning, leaving Dean and Cas to attend the case without him. So, maybe that alone time might be happening after all. Just not quite in the way Dean wants...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short fic divided into three chapters for (my) convenience, and is just a bit of silly fun. I wouldn't count on a massive amount of detailed plot here, to be honest...
> 
> A note about the rating: chapter one is teen, chapter two I'd say is mature, and chapter three has a small amount that is explicit, hence the rating choice. 
> 
> :)
> 
> x

“Running again?”

Dean watched the way Cas' shoulders tensed up in automatic defence on hearing his voice, waiting in silence for him to pivot on his heel to face him. Sure enough, a moment later Cas was spinning, giving a tight nod underwritten by the sound of him clearly attempting to hold back a sigh.

“Yes, Dean,”

“Okay,” Dean replied, keeping it easy, moving a step closer, and not taking his eyes off Cas'.

“It is important. To keep healthy. To keep _going._ To keep-”

“I get it,” Dean interrupted, Cas' constant argument about the need to keep himself _fit_ already stuck in his mind on loop, and making Dean fight back a grin even at just the thought of hearing it all over again. “I mean, I won't come _with_. But I get it,”

“It would be beneficial for you to also-”

“Hey,” Dean cut him off, this time with a chop of his hand through the air and a firm shake of his head, “not gonna happen, Cas. Got all kindsa other ways I keep myself in shape,” he added, giving Cas a wink, which in return earned him an eye roll.

“Of that I am aware,”

“'sides,” Dean said, taking a step closer still, and reaching out to grip his fingers lightly around Cas' waist, splaying them a little and feeling the firmness of his skin beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, immediately smiling for it, “don't know why you're worried. You look pretty _healthy_ to me already,”

Cas' answering expression morphed between another eye roll, a blush to his cheeks, and a small smile that showed he understood Dean's implication. He head dropped down in embarrassment for a second before he raised his eyes to look at Dean again, and leaned in for a quick, even more embarrassed kiss. Dean was helpless but to smile against him, curl his fingers into Cas' sides a little tighter, let out a sigh in a way that couldn't disguise just how truly happy he was.

“You are biased,” Cas accused him, as their chests collided, making Dean's smile split wider still, as he leaned in for his own brief kiss.

“Yeah, well. Gotta be, when I know I've got a good thing going for me,” he retorted, which just painted an even brighter shade of blush to Cas' cheeks, and had him ducking his head all over again. The ease with which Cas showed his emotions, especially his embarrassment, was one of the most endearing things Dean enjoyed about Cas being human.

“I will be back soon,” Cas mumbled, a brief drop of his forehead on to Dean's shoulder that turned into a full body hug, that both of them then sagged into in silence, holding on for several minutes without saying a single word. When Cas began to shift with the need to get moving, Dean pressed a final kiss to the side of his head, then stepped back with a tight nod.

“I'll get dinner going,” he promised, already running through a list of ingredients in his head to include all of the _nutrients_ Sam used to grumble to him about missing out on, but now with Cas by his side, complained that much louder for their necessity in their meals. Cas smiled in gratitude and gave Dean's hands a final squeeze before turning away, leaving Dean grinning after him what he knew was a little stupidly, but had only worried about being stupid for the first five minutes he'd caught himself doing it; back forever ago, when he’d got Cas back to the bunker.

It had been a couple of months now since Cas had become human. One evening, when Sam and Dean had been experiencing a lull in things to hunt, the sky had filled with churning clouds the colour of apocalypse, a deep, rumbling sound had shaken the entire Earth, and the angels had started to fall. Some plummeted to the ground and died on impact, their grace studding the globe with beautiful, luscious gardens. Others Sam speculated had made their way to wombs to be born again nine months later; months they marked off on a calendar, in case they brought the start of further trouble. Others still, had disappeared. And then there was Cas.

On _that_ night, Dean's first thoughts - first fears, really, were for only Cas. First, he'd attempted to contact him on the cell he'd given him. Then, he'd offered up prayer upon increasingly-desperate prayer for every one that went unanswered. And when there'd been no word, Dean had driven Sam near-crazy with his pacing and speculating, and attempting to try to find Cas through whatever leads he came across in the news, as well as a glut of phone calls to every one of their contacts; a process that had gone on for almost two nightmarish weeks until a croaked message left on Dean's voicemail announced Cas was in Quebec.

Beyond tired, hungry, and so thirsty, Cas had later told them, he'd wandered aimlessly for days as his memories slowly returned to him. Cas had further confused issues by leaving his message for Dean in French; Dean had worked out enough of it to get them on the road, with Cas calling again whilst they were driving up there, and Dean having to repeat himself over and over until Cas eventually took the hint and started speaking in English.

Hours later, and Dean was screeching the Impala to a halt at the sight of Cas, shivering and huddled into himself on a bench at a bus station. There was no force to stop Dean leaping out the car and running to him, pulling Cas to his feet and wrapping him up in a tight, relieved hug. Dean hadn't let go until the trembles he felt had reduced, Cas' discreet tears into his shoulder had been hidden, and Dean had slid his hands down Cas' arms to grip him just above the elbow, to lean back just enough to check him over without breaking contact.

With a nod and not a single word, Dean had looped his arm around Cas' waist and led him back to the car, where Sam had jumped out and given him his own hug in greeting as well. A sweater was rummaged up out of the trunk along with a blanket, and Cas bundled into the back seat along with food and water, which he ate and drank greedily, then fell immediately asleep after, and Dean had watched as Sam turned in his seat to gently pluck the empty bottle and food wrapper out of his fingers with an affectionate smile.

Back at the bunker, Dean had sat Cas down in the kitchen with a cup of coffee as he and Sam frantically sought out bedding, towels, and spare clothes for him to wear. And after what had seemed like hours, Cas had emerged from the shower, pink skinned and gratefully blinking, then had gone without complaint as Dean walked him to his new bedroom, passing out the moment his head hit the pillow.

What had happened the following morning Dean still couldn't believe his luck about, nor his nerve for doing, not even then, stood in the kitchen thinking about it several weeks later, as he cut and sliced enough vegetables to keep both the health freaks in his life happy. He'd gone to Cas' room after a lot of debating with himself, with a loaded tray of breakfast gripped too tight in his hands and his heart hammering in his chest, steeling himself against turning and running. On hearing him, Cas had sat up with that same bleary look on his face from the night before, which Dean already thought was kind of adorable. And whilst Cas' eyes were dropping to the food he'd made for him, Dean was sitting himself down beside Cas on the bed, and leaning into his side.

With an ease that had been rehearsed in his head the entire night, Dean looped his arm around Cas' shoulders to pull him close to him, and before he could talk himself out of it had dropped his head down enough to press a kiss on his mouth. Cas had pulled back, startled for a couple of seconds, then surging forward to kiss him harder in return, all but dislodging the tray from his lap. Dean remembered then the way Cas' stomach had rumbled and interrupted them, and how round his eyes had got as Dean had piled him up a plate to eat, patiently waiting for him to finish eating so he could kiss him all over again.

Before Cas had fallen, Dean might have lost himself countless nights of sleep thinking about Cas in ways that he'd done in secret for the longest time. But since that first kiss and a subsequent hard conversation about them both being in denial about those lingering looks and wordless sacrifices they'd made for each other over and over again, they were on their way to something good. It wasn't easy, it was very new, and it had to be fit around hunting, and Cas' adjusting to being human. But it was working, and it was worth it, and left Dean with a sense of _good_ that he was still a little afraid of trusting in completely yet. Still on alert for things that might go wrong.

Currently, Cas' obsession with keeping himself in shape, eating right, and taking every supplement he could get his hands on, was quite high on the list of unexpected things to get used to, along with his _research_ into everything; from hand-to-hand combat and first aid techniques, to evacuation procedures when stuck in power-outs, and where was best to wait should an earthquake hit. Some of the Youtube videos Dean had caught him watching were helpful, and he even found himself taking an interest in once in a while, he could admit that. But others, like the panic-inducing documentaries about plagues, and meteors, and all sorts of human frailties Cas had never had to consider before, were a little too much. Not that Dean was complaining as such, especially since the first night Cas had spent in his bed was because Cas had scared himself so much with a series on superbugs, that he couldn't face sleeping alone.

Dean remembered that first time curled up around Cas, skin against skin after a not-quite chaste exploration of each other, and found himself grinning hard, his forearms coming to rest on the kitchen counter top with his fingers drooping over the chopping board, losing himself entirely in just remembering it.

“What're we having?”

Sam's arrival in the kitchen and leaning on the counter beside him brought Dean back to the present, making him pick up the knife again and resuming his preparation.

“Pasta. Since apparently Cas can't get enough _carbs_ , and both of you can't stop telling me we need more _vegetables_ , and _I_ still want some meat and cheese,”

“Is it that spicy one you do that tastes like meatballs?” Sam asked, hopefully, leaning in with interest to pick up the spice jars Dean had already laid out on the counter.

“Yeah,” Dean said, snatching them back, then slapping his hands away and glaring, “and by the way? Next time you tell Cas people can have allergic reactions to things like laundry detergent? _You're_ taking him shopping. Spent an hour in Target this morning trying to find the _right scent_ of that hypoallergenic crap that's expensive as hell,” which had Sam smiling to himself about and folding his arms across his chest with a defensive shrug.

“Hey. You're the one with the need to do everything to keep Cas happy-”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, turning slightly towards him, “'cos it's _me_ that gets the rambled panics at three in the morning about... I don't know... liquid sanitiser only being eighty percent effective,” which Sam seemed to find unreasonably hilarious.

“It's what you get for sharing a _bed_ with the guy – amongst other things,” Sam retorted, with far too much glee in his voice for Dean's liking; far, far too much.

“I don't- we don't _share a bed_ , Sam. I mean we _do_... I- you make it sound like we've moved in together already,” Dean protested, nudging Sam out of his way with his hip as he headed for the stove.

“Hey. I'm loving seeing you all heart-eyed domestic,” Sam grinned, taking an exaggerated step away from Dean's swiped out arm. “I mean... not like it's not about time, and all,” Sam added, side-stepping Dean easily as though he anticipated the wooden spoon being aimed at his head.

“Yeah, whatever,”

“So, listen. Might've found us a case,” Sam said then, with an abrupt change of subject, which was actually the very last thing Dean wanted to hear. They'd only been back a couple of days from a wendigo hunt, and he'd been looking forward to having some time alone with Cas when there was no sense of urgency interrupting them, having some more time just for them, adjusting to each other.

“Oh?” Dean answered, not even trying to disguise the disinterest in his voice.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, walking behind him and bending to the fridge, pulling out a bowl of salad he'd forgotten about from a couple of days ago. “Hey. Think this'll be any good?”

Dean took in the green almost-mulch in the bowl and grimaced, shaking his head firmly. “Nope. Not a chance,”

“I don't know,” Sam mumbled, mostly to himself as he peeled back the plastic wrap, practically putting his entire head in the bowl and giving a long sniff. “Might just be the dressing making it look like... like-”

“Like _you_ when you haven't washed that greasy mop of yours in a week?” Dean tried, purposefully lacking tact and earning himself a scowl. Dean kept watching as Sam dipped his finger in and whirled it around the bowl, snagging up some of the green mulch and tilting his head back, dropping it into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

“Tastes okay,”

“Yeah, well. You're on your own. You wanna eat _that_ then... do it. We're not touching it,”

“Aww... you're answering _for_ Cas already?” Sam teased, stepping out of Dean's grasp yet again and laughing, scooping up another mouthful of salad then deciding he didn't actually want the salad after all, dumping the contents of the bowl into the trash and the bowl into the sink.

“Hey. You can wash that yourself,” Dean told the back of Sam's head, already back in the fridge and taking out another plate of leftovers, heading for the microwave. “Hey. You can't wait till dinner? Be like... soon as Cas is back, and showered and stuff. Like... maybe an hour, tops,”

“Nope,” Sam said, with a slam of the microwave door and his fingers tapping impatiently along the top of it as he waited, “hungry now,”

“What've you got, worms or something?” Dean grimaced at him, still preparing food for their actual dinner and turning away again with a put-upon sigh. Sometimes, Dean thought to himself, he wondered why he went to all the effort that he did to feed them, when all Sam did without actually helping was moan and complain about it all.

“Some of us work out,” Sam said, pointedly, purposefully poking at Dean's nerves from across the room.

“Yeah well. Some of us are happy as we are,” Dean countered, though pressing a hand to his stomach as he did, and wondering if it might not be quite as firm as it should be.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed with a snort of laughter, all but yanking the microwave door off in his haste to get to the now-steaming homemade burrito, “maybe _you're_ happy with you. But now you've got _Cas_ to think about...”

Of course, as Sam probably intended in his role as _annoying little brother_ , Dean's paranoia inched up a notch, making him discreetly look down and convince himself he had a bit of gut on him. Cas, and Dean knew this for himself, having seen him with his very own greedy eyes, was pretty much perfect. Thick thighed, broad shouldered, miles upon miles of smooth skin over sheets of muscle; it was like Cas had gone out and hand-picked himself a gorgeous specimen of humanity to inhabit, purposefully knowing that all that glorious physique would one day be his and his alone to keep. Which was probably, Dean reflected then, why Cas was going to such great lengths to keep himself _in shape_ like he was currently obsessing over doing.

Jimmy Novak had been a runner, Cas had told him once. Several miles every day of the week, varied in length and routes so that he never grew tired of it. Hands-on in the church community, which meant a lot of helping lift and shift boxes of donations, Jimmy had also assisted a few of the older residents of his street with DIY, as well as doing all the general repairs and maintenance on his own home. That, coupled with an unfairly quick metabolism, had meant that Jimmy had never had much trouble keeping in shape – Cas was just putting in that little extra effort on account of _the ageing process_ , as he kept putting it, much to Dean's continual mirth.

“Didn't you say something about a case,” Dean said, frowning down at his stomach and wanting to change the subject. With a full mouth that Dean grimaced at having to watch chew, Sam gave the affirmative, then made Dean wince with the loud smacking of his fingers as he sucked them clean. And people accused _him_ of eating like an animal; people wanted to have to share a home with this guy, Dean grumbled to himself under his breath.

“That tofu burger Cas convinced you to buy. Amazing,” Sam said; Dean turned to find that he'd eaten the entire thing in just a couple of bites, as well as the burrito.

“Wash,” Dean ordered again, pointing first at Sam, then at the sink. Sam gave an exaggerated eye roll that wouldn't have looked out of place on his fifteen-year-old self, but did as he was told, shoving up the sleeves of his shirt and filling the sink with warm suds.

“So. South Dakota. There's a cave network that's had a cave in and opened up a whole new network along one of its tunnels. Local caving groups have been exploring it for safety to work out if it's okay to open up to the public or not,”

Dean made a noise telling Sam to continue as he set up his pans on the stove. Sam gave a loud belch and grinned at himself when Dean turned to scowl at him, then carried on. “Anyway. Seems two cavers have gone missing on two separate occasions, and a couple reported being so spooked by _creepy_ _noises_ coming from behind one of the walls, they reported it to the local news network,”

“Noises?” Dean asked, turning again and grinning at him. “What kinda noises? We talking like... like Shelob?”

“No,” Sam shook his head, “not a j'ba fofi,”

“' _J'ba fofi_ ',” Dean repeated, mocking, “you can't just say _giant spider_?”

“Not a giant spider-”

“Troll?” Dean interrupted again.

“Nor any other character from Lord of the Rings, no,” Sam replied, dry, and sounding as though he was already losing his patience with him.

“Cherufe?”

“No-”

“Grootslang?”

“Not an elephant with a snake’s tail, no,”

“Then what?” Dean's interest was taken up again by the stove, pan-frying meat with one hand and tasting the sauce with a dipped finger of the other.

“Well,” Sam started, hesitating, “judging by the, uh, _witness_ saying they heard what sounded like giant wings fluttering, we could be looking at something like an olitiau,”

“Cave demon?” Dean mumbled, listening half-heartedly.

“Could be. Giant bat, serrated teeth, blood red wings-”

“They _saw_ it?” Dean asked with a snort, shaking his head.

“Well, _no_. But there was a rip in one of the guy's jacket that was like... two inches long. And tooth-shaped-”

“In a cave system. Not possible to snag yourself on anything in passing, right, Sammy?” Dean scoffed, his interest now lost entirely.

“Look. I don't know, okay? Just going by the news report. But get this. Group of school kids were down there on some kind of educational trip, and ran out screaming, saying they heard _voices_ behind the walls,”

“So we've got ourselves a giant bat with teeth, that can hold a conversation?”

“Kids all ran out screaming and clutching their heads like... like they - the news said it was like they could all hear some kinda... high pitched noise no one else could. Teacher leading them in was fine, came out unscathed. Didn't hear a thing,”

Slowly turning from the stove with an extended spoon held in Sam's direction to taste, Dean felt, rather than consciously allowed a deep frown to form on his face. “Like... bat sonar for tweens?”

“Like bat sonar,” Sam half-agreed, then hummed in approval the moment the flavour of the sauce hit his tongue.

“These cavers that went missing. They weren't kids too, were they?”

“No. No, one was in their twenties, the other in his thirties,”

“So, what,” Dean asked, shuffling the pans a little, still half-distracted, “you want us to go down there and what. Listen out for bat sonar? Go caving? What?”

“I don't know,” Sam shrugged, “maybe worth a look though, huh? Not got anything else on at the minute,”

“Can't we... can't we just give this one a miss? Or... wait 'till we hear if anything else happens? Work out if it’s worth it?”

“You don't wanna follow up a lead?” Sam replied with an arch to his voice that promised a world of teasing.

“Sounds like something outta The National Enquirer, man,” Dean protested, turning to Sam with a plea in his voice.

“Since when isn’t nearly everything we do?” Sam countered, coming to inspect the pan. “How 'bout we ask Cas what he thinks?”

Dean let his shoulders slump, certain that Sam would easily sell the idea to Cas, and that his own personal thoughts on the case would be – had already been dismissed by Sam. Cas had very quickly realised just how very persuasive he could be with Dean, when little more than the slightest of looks or touches got him whatever he wanted pretty much all of the time. And Sam, whilst thankfully ignorant of the specific details of what Cas did to persuade Dean so easily, knew when to use that to his own advantage.

Dean watched Sam stick his finger into the sauce and pull it out again with a grimace at the heat of it, then suck it into his mouth and again giving a hum of approval at the taste. Though the pouting look he gave as he lifted his finger to examine it Dean had no response for, other than to roll his eyes at seeing.

“Fine. Let's see what he says,” Dean sighed, dragging his eyes away from Sam’s apparently injured finger and up to his face, before turning back to the stove.

A triumphant clap on his shoulder a second later told Dean all he needed to know, and as he gave the sauce a final stir, in his head he was already packing an overnight bag, thinking about what they might need to take with them.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

With a bounce in his step that spoke of a good night's sleep wrapped up in the heat of Cas beside him, Dean hummed to himself as he walked into the kitchen, ready to prepare the three of them breakfast. The eggs were slid from the fridge along with the bacon, coffee freshly brewed in the pot, which Dean was just about to pour when the loud, unpleasant noise of violent retching got his attention.

“Sam?” he called, knowing Cas was tucked up in bed still fast asleep, mumbling into _his_ pillow, which he’d grabbed grumpily when Dean had gotten out of bed. When Sam didn't answer, Dean grimaced, took a couple of breaths in anticipation of the smell, and headed for the bathroom. Another retch had him covering his mouth, and with his hand inches from the door, Dean heard a panicked, _oh fuck_ , followed by sounds that had him gagging and turning rapidly away from, to take yet more breaths of fresh air.

“You okay in there, man?” he managed to call out once he'd turned back around again with his hand half-over his mouth. In answer, he received nothing but a pitiful whimper, and more of those sounds that, at least temporarily, put Dean off his breakfast, though he went back to the kitchen to continue cooking anyway, and periodically checked on Sam, leaving a jug of water and towels outside the bathroom door.

“Is everything okay?”

Dean spun rapidly at the sound of Cas' voice, watching him break into an uncontrollable smile that kept him stumbling forward into Dean's arms and humming against his shoulder. “Think Sam's sick. Not _contagious_ sick, before you panic,” Dean amended, the second he felt Cas tensing.

“He was well last night,” Cas object as he pulled back, narrowing his eyes at Dean.

“Yeah, well, the idiot ate a load of stuff outta the fridge we prob'ly shoulda thrown out already,” Dean told him, relieved to see Cas' nod, instead of receiving an onslaught of worried questions about food safety.

“I am... hungry,” Cas announced, one hand dropping to press against his stomach as he looked down at it, making Dean grin.

“Then let's eat,”

“Perhaps we could attend the case alone and allow Sam to recover?” Cas suggested, sliding his fingers through Dean's and squeezing. His eyes drifted immediately to the bacon and eggs already half-cooked, and Dean followed his gaze, bracing for a barrage of complaints about their breakfast being unhealthy.

“If you don’t want any ‘o this, uh, we got cereal. There's... yoghurt. I could do you some-”

“I would also like toast; I am quite hungry this morning,” Cas announced absently, cutting Dean off in the process, already crossing the room and reaching for a loaf of bread to feed into the toaster. Dean sent a relieved smile in Cas' direction and headed for the stove, turning up the heat once more.

“Maybe you worked up an appetite going for a longer run yesterday, huh, Cas?” Dean teased, carefully checking the eggs and gently flipping them over.

“It is likely _our_ evening activities that are more to blame for my appetite, Dean. Not that I am complaining,”

There was a couple of seconds of silence following Cas' response, and then Dean let out an embarrassed snort of laughter, turning his head to find Cas smiling at him in triumph. With that smile firmly fixed in place, Cas kept his eyes on Dean's as he walked the short distance between them, and pressed Dean back until he was against the counter, then nuzzled into his cheek.

“You are _blushing_ ,” Cas mumbled into his jaw, sounding thoroughly delighted with himself. Dean let out a short burst of laughter and wrapped his arms around Cas' waist, smiling at the approving answering hum.

“And you're loving that, aren't ya, Cas?”

Cas' answer this time was in the form of a kiss that proved so distracting, the oil in the pan began to spit in protest next to them. Cas pulled back, mumbling about fire safety, and returned to making toast, leaving Dean biting back more laughter, and concentrating on cooking their breakfast.

* * *

“Yeah, just... just keeping drinking water, okay, Sammy? You know you're a cranky bastard when you get a dehydration headache, so just... yeah, there's some of those weird crispbread things you like on the... alright, well, then sleep it off then. Yeah, we will. Yeah-”

At Sam's abrupt ending of their call, Dean turned the phone to grimace at the screen, but was distracted from it immediately by Cas coming out of their motel room bathroom, pulling irritably at his tie.

“Think he's still throwing up,” Dean told him, though his tone was half-hearted, already up and across the room, undoing and re-knotting the tie with a deliberate linger of his fingertips. When he'd positioned the knot exactly how he wanted it, Dean allowed his thumb to sweep up over the bare skin of Cas' neck to just beneath his chin. Cas' eyes dropped to Dean's mouth, giving him a moment's warning before tilting his head forward and claiming a kiss, fingers straight through the back of Dean's hair in a light grip.

In the few weeks since that first brave kiss Dean had leaned in for, Dean had become a little addicted to the way Cas kissed him back. There was a thoroughness to it that Dean was convinced came from Cas being the one to put him back together, as though he already knew every single spot in him that he liked being touched. In fact, that thoroughness underwrote everything Cas did to him, Dean reflected, a choked off gasp escaping, as Cas' hands slid around his hips to angle them together just how he wanted them to fit.

Cas could take him from the most tender, sweetest of kisses that had him smiling like a simpleton, to these intense, lustful ones that made Dean's knees buckle and his jeans decidedly too tight. And these suit pants too, he realised, shifting himself and pushing far to the back of his mind that, allegedly, they were there undercover as Feds, but in reality were currently rutting together in the middle of their motel room, filling it with pleasured moans and whispered encouragements.

“We need to... we gotta...” Dean tried and failed to tell him, Cas mouthing along his neck as his fingers left Dean's skin searing with heat in their exploration through his shirt. Dean might find Cas' shyness endearing, but his confidence produced another feeling in him entirely, one that was far too inappropriate for Dean to be even considering with them due to be meeting a witness.

“Dean...” Cas managed to blast out, before kissing him with renewed urgency, his fingertips now pressing at Dean's belt buckle and starting to slide it open. Cas dropped his hand for a second to cup around Dean's length through his pants, and Dean whimpered in answer, then full on moaned, as the heel of Cas' hand pressed into him.

“We gotta-”

“Just our hands, Dean,” Cas told him, making quick work of unzipping them both, “just our hands. We will be quick,” leaving Dean to moan out again at the feel of Cas' hand gripped tightly around them both, and to push their shirts up and out of the way so they wouldn't be ruined.

Dean dropped his gaze to watch the way their cock heads slipped through the tight circle of Cas' hand as he worked them, whimpering as he glanced back up to see Cas doing the same, and having to claim a kiss. Their foreheads bumped together when kissing became impossible, their eyes firmly on the slide of Cas' hand. When Dean felt himself seconds away from coming, he pushed their shirts up a little higher, then sucked in a breath as Cas cried out, rocking against him as he came, and pulling Dean over the edge as well.

As they panted breath back into themselves, Dean let out a disbelieving snort, one hand cupping the base of Cas' neck and dragging him in for a weary kiss. “Gonna need to change my shirt,” he mumbled against Cas' lips, stretching to reach the small hand towel that was on the end of their bed and giving a half-hearted attempt at wiping their stomachs clean. Cas hummed against him, gently tucking Dean back in and zipping him up before doing the same for himself.

“I prefer your blue shirt,” Cas told him, with one soft, final kiss, before stepping back and adjusting himself a little more.

“You coulda just asked me to change,” Dean replied, smiling as he shrugged his way out of his splattered shirt.

“This way was more… effective. And pleasurable,” Cas retorted with, eyes greedily watching Dean's every move as he changed.

“Damn straight,” Dean said, following it up with another quick kiss then deliberately turning away before he would be distracted all over again.

“We have ample time before we have to meet our witness,”

“Had. We _had_ ample time,” Dean amended, checking his phone for the time and immediately hurrying himself up. “You ready?”

Cas gave Dean a single nod, standing by the motel room door looking completely unruffled, whilst Dean felt himself flushed, giddy, and all sorts of unprepared. Unfair, Dean thought, completely unfair, but was still unable to resist leaning in for one last final kiss, before squaring his shoulders, clearing his throat, and putting on his business face.

“Let's go,”

* * *

“I’m telling you, Cas; this all smells like bull-”

“We should investigate, Dean. We are here; it would be a waste of our time to have come all of this way without _checking_ ,”

Dean took in the raised eyebrow challenging him, the squared shoulders daring him to disagree, and even though he had no intention of doing either, felt defeated by it. Or at least helpless not to smile.

“I didn’t say we wouldn’t _look-_ ”

“The witness said that they heard a disembodied voice from beyond the cave wall,” Cas added, stabbing up a slice of tomato and chewing it as though it too was daring to disagree with him.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed with a laugh, “kid also thought he was channelling Kurt Cobain; see what the guy was wearing?”

“I fail to see what that has to do with his experience,” Cas replied in an arched voice, taking a sip of his beer and frowning over the top of it.

“I never said-”

“It is unreasonable to assume that because most of the alleged witnesses are _adolescents_ , that we should-”

 _I can’t decide_ , Dean thought to himself, staring at Cas’ slightly dumbstruck, very embarrassed expression, for Dean having pushed himself up against the table's surface, and leaned over it to kiss him quiet; _I can’t decide what I love seeing more; embarrassed Cas, or horny Cas._

“We should not dismiss-”

 _Nope_ , Dean thought, across the table again and lingering there this time, with one hand curled around Cas’ jaw, enjoying the feel of stubble against his palm, _can’t decide at all_.

“No one’s dismissing anything, Cas,” Dean promised, leaning in for another kiss before sitting back down.

Cas stared back at him across the table, the corners of his mouth repeatedly threatening to reveal just how pleased he was with himself. Dean had never explicitly mentioned the whole _not in public_ thing, and it wasn’t even something he was necessarily against; already there’d been a few times when they and Sam had been out together, and if it wasn’t for Sam’s repeated sneaking of glances down at their joined hands with a grin on his face about a mile wide, Dean wouldn’t have even considered it a big deal.

In fact, Dean thought to himself, smiling effortlessly back at Cas, _not in public_ had never really been a thing between them.

When Cas had got himself into an almost-fury over the added salt count to something – Dean didn’t even remember _what_ – that he felt there was absolutely no need for there to be salt in, the only way to placate him had been to kiss him, right there in the middle of the aisle, slide the offending item from his fingers, and loop his arms around Cas’ waist, until he’d kissed him long and hard enough for Cas to have stopped frowning.

And when their server had added regular mayo to his burger instead of the light stuff, and ignored Cas’ request for it to be on the side of his plate, Cas had been almost apoplectic. His mumbles about mayonnaise contaminating his lettuce Dean had dutifully kissed away, until Cas had sighed against him, and Sam, watching them from across the diner booth, remembered to swallow what was already in his mouth.

And there had been other occasions; far too many for Dean to be sitting and daydreaming about right then; it was just they did that kind of stuff on _their_ time, not on hunting time. And he’d just gone and broken his own unspoken rule by kissing him. Besides, Dean told himself, he didn’t _daydream_ ; what kind of an idiot did that, when they had the real thing right in front of them?

The look Cas gave him then was full of intent for when they got back to their motel room, and Dean was back to trying to decide which version of Cas he loved best. All of them, he declared, catching himself sighing happily for it and then adamantly not caring.

“I just think we’re gonna get down there tomorrow with this tour guide, we’re gonna have ourselves a little day trip into some caves – can’t say I’m too thrilled about that prospect of that-”

“Dean,” Cas cut him off with a smile that was affectionate, that said _oh, you are adorable_ , “people dwelled in caves for thousands of years; it is quite safe-”

“If it’s _quite safe_ , how come there was a cave in in the first place, huh?” Dean countered, swearing Cas was now fighting back a laugh.

“Natural processes. Pockets of air – and gas escaping-”

“Wait,” Dean said with a rapid wave of his hand, “ _gas_? Like-”

“Merely natural gases. Natural processes that could lead to-”

“Cave-ins,” Dean finished for him with an incredulous laugh.

“I will protect you,” Cas told him, solemn as he was so often solemn, as he skewered the last of his salad then neatly folded his cutlery over his plate. And if that didn’t make Dean’s heart melt all over again, then he’d have been made of stone. Which he wasn’t, he told himself, draining the last of his beer, he was flesh and bone, and had a motel room bed to christen with his, well. His _Cas_ , he thought, flustered even though he was talking inside his own head.

“Of course, we should take every precaution,” Cas added, beginning to launch into a long list of things he thought might be necessary for their cave trip, with Dean resting his elbow on the edge of the table and propping up his chin, loathe to stop him talking when he looked so enthused about the subject. Then caught himself doing it, cleared his throat, and gestured for Cas to hurry up.

* * *

“Seriously?”

Cas paused from where he had been filling a backpack with whatever the hell it had been he’d gone out and bought on his way back from his run – _run_ , Dean muttered under his breath; although he hadn’t been complaining about the sight of Cas when he’d _returned_ from his run all panting and sweaty – and looked at Dean over his shoulder with an air of superiority that had Dean fighting back a smile. Which was something he found himself doing a lot these days, he added to himself, smiling as Cas sidled up to his side of the bed, standing there completely naked, just from the shower - because apparently, that was the best time to pack for their little excursion - and nodded forlornly.

“Yes, Dean. We should ensure we have-”

“Cas,” Dean laughed, sitting himself up and throwing back the duvet, planting his feet either side of Cas’ and pulling him closer, “we’re gonna be there a couple hours’ tops; you look like you’re packing for an apocalyptic weekend away or something,”

“It is better to be prepared than-”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, ducking to mouth over his cock and smiling against it as Cas’ hands flew out to steady himself on Dean’s shoulders, “be prepared and all that, I got it,” then continued licking and sucking away any objections Cas might have been about to make until he was hard. He surprised Dean then by raising one knee beside him on the bed, swinging the other up, and cupping the back of Dean’s head, and pressing himself against Dean’s lips, waiting for his permission.

Dean grinned, kissing against him and then flicking his tongue out, raising his hands to Cas’ thighs as he bucked. “Well, okay then,” he agreed, humming low, and long, opening his mouth for Cas to slide in.

By the time Cas had returned the favour, they were both out of breath and sweaty enough to warrant a first shower for Dean, and a second one for Cas, which delayed them even more. Which meant that by the time they reached the cave entrance, the tour guide was already standing there looking annoyed by their tardiness. As they approached she narrowed her eyes at them, then lingered a deliberately long look between the two of them before sighing, and reluctantly offering out a hand to shake.

The cave was nothing other than Dean had expected. Cold, damp, mould spread out around the faint lighting along the echoing paths as they walked behind the guide, who muttered back to them in a bored tone Dean hoped she never used when she was talking to actual paying customers rather than fake Feds like themselves. Cas, bless him, Dean thought, kept up a constant string of interested-sounding questions so that he didn’t have to, hanging back just enough to keep an eye out for any signs of Sam’s alleged olitiau, and up until then at least, not seeing a single trace.

“Think maybe we can take a look around ourselves?” Dean called out, after taking yet another turn into a chamber that looked no different from any of the others.

“Think I’m gonna leave you to get lost in here? Attract a whole bunch of your colleagues to come looking for you?” she snorted, pausing just a second to raise an eyebrow back at him.

“We understand,” Cas said immediately, placating and calm, “perhaps we could take a moment in the area where the cave-in occurred; we would be quite safe with you outside,”

 _How did he do that_ , Dean thought to himself, fighting back the prideful smile threatening to erupt on his face. Cas had said nothing different than he might have said himself given half the chance, yet she immediately relaxed, practically simpered at him, and led the way. The moment they were out of sight, Dean was peeking back to make sure she wasn’t looking, then leaning in to kiss him quickly, telling himself that it wasn’t jealousy he was feeling for the way she’d smiled at Cas.

“Let’s check it out,” he said, pointing and shining his flashlight towards the back of the newly opened chamber, with Cas following seconds later.

Nothing appeared out of the ordinary here either, Dean thought, already bored and ready to move on. Hunting had always been his foundation, what he knew best; but since picking Cas up from Quebec, it felt a little as though his priorities had shifted. He still knew what he had to do, knew what his job involved. But now, at the end of every day, and when he woke every morning, there was _Cas_. And the moment they had resolved whatever was going on in those caves, he was calling a time-out, already bracing himself for Sam’s teasing about him wanting to spend some time alone with Cas. Worth it, he thought with a smile in Cas’ direction, no question about it.

“You can see the new rock exposed,” Cas was mumbling almost to himself, his hand stroking over a surface that looked fresher than those to its side, so that Dean could see exactly what he meant.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, “so long as there’s no more _cave-ins_ while we’re here, huh?”

Which was, in hindsight, just as terrible a thing to say as, _what could possibly go wrong?_

A loud rumble from beyond the far wall set the floor beneath them to trembling, a sharp jolt over to the left causing them to stumble, then jump away from a resounding crack.

“What the-” Dean managed to get out before a deep rumbling sound blasted at them as though an earthquake had struck.

“Tell me it’s not an earthquake,” Dean called out, reaching for Cas and pulling him close.

“It is not an earthquake,” Cas repeated, his eyes up and darting around the roof of the cave, watchful and cautious as his arm looped securely around Dean’s waist.

“Then what is it?” Dean persisted, gripping a little tighter as they tried to hold each other up.

“I don’t know,” Cas told him, which was not anywhere near as reassuring as he was wanting to hear.

A final loud crack, followed by a rain of rock fragments and shards, and they were both knocked to the ground.

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a note at the end; it's sort of a spoiler, so don't read that if you don't like those :D
> 
> Also, it kinds of turn explicit here so, look away if that's not your thing. And if you didn't realise I'm all the way team!switch, then again, don't keep reading...

“Hello? H- Hello? Can you hear me? He- _Hello_?”

Waking disoriented with a mouthful of dust and having no idea why he was like that, or even where he was, was not something Dean could ever say he’d want to experience again any time soon. He heard the voice calling to him, muffled and sounding so very far away, but then felt a hand stirring in his, and his senses immediately shifted.

“Cas,” he called out urgently, attempting to roll, though was prevented from doing, by the lancing pain that shot through his ankle and had him groaning.

“Dean,” Cas’ call was at first groggy; just like he sounded when he first woke up in the morning, Dean thought, and then just as urgent as Dean’s had been.

“Hello?”

“Are you hurt?” Cas asked, even more urgent, his hands running up and down Dean at every point, freezing when he reached his ankle on realising he was in pain.

“Think it’s just a sprain,” Dean blasted out, looking down in the direction of his leg but not being able to see a thing in the pitch dark. He felt a kiss, then a slight hug that spoke of Cas’ relief that he was okay, and then listened to Cas shuffling around, wincing at the sudden beam of a flashlight.

“I brought a spare,” Cas explained, with Dean looking over the bag clutched between Cas’ fingers and resisting the urge to roll his eyes, then watching as Cas stood, walked over to where their entrance had been, and felt his stomach drop.

“We’re _trapped_?” Dean called out in alarm, dragging himself upright, then listened as Cas talked to the guide through their new wall, heard her say she was going for help, and laid back down with a huff, one hand over his mouth to try and wipe away the grittiness he felt there.

“There is adequate oxygen,” Cas observed as he turned back to Dean, looking just as solemn as ever.

“Oh, good,”

“We need to assess your ankle,” Cas added, dropping fluidly to his knees so that Dean’s foot was between them, wincing through every jolt and noise Dean made as he eased his boot off, gentle as possible. Dean propped himself up on his elbows to look, as Cas’ fingers carefully pressed along his foot, ankle and calf, took in the frown on his face, and wiggled his toes to show him it wasn’t broken.

“We need ice,” Cas announced, reaching for his bag again; Dean half expected to see a mini freezer appear out of the bag for all he’d seen Cas putting into it, but instead watched as he pulled out a thick plastic disc, opening it carefully then tipping out what looked like a red bandage. With his head tilted in concentration, Cas gently pressed the bandage around his ankle, with Dean letting out a relieved _oh_ at the instant coolness chasing away the heat of the sprain.

“We have no ice. This is a cold compression wrap used by runners following injuries, or sprains,” Cas explained, tilting his head from side to side to inspect his handiwork then reaching into the bag again. He pulled out three separate boxes of painkillers and debated his choice, then dragged out an energy bar and a bottle of water, and pushed them into Dean’s waiting hands once he’d helped him sit up better.

“You really did think of everything, huh?” Dean said around chewing the bar, accepting the pills pressed into his palm, then snagging Cas’ fingers in thanks before he could pull away entirely. Silently, Cas reached into the bag yet again, pulled out a small bottle of lube to show him, then dropped it back in with a smile as Dean coughed and spluttered around the gulp of water he’d just taken.

“So… how’d you know all that stuff?” Dean asked with a nod towards his ankle when he was free to do so, accepting Cas settling around behind him and leaning back against his chest, listening to Cas’ mumbles of them needing to keep warm.

“Rice,” Cas replied once he was settled, with a kiss to his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist.

“...Hungry?”

“No, _RICE_ ,” Cas repeated, as though Dean was being purposely stupid, “rest, ice, compression, elevation; I watched a video,”

Dean looked down at his ankle again, currently propped up on the back of Cas’ bag, and sighed, relaxing against him, muttering, _of course you did_ , to which Cas huffed again, then wrapped his arms a little tighter.

“We could be here several hours,” Cas warned then; Dean was sure he could feel him peering around them and assessing their surroundings.

“We could,”

“If I were not human, I-”

“Yeah, well, you are,” Dean interrupted. Cas had no problem at all with being human; in fact in some ways, he seemed to revel in it. Watching Cas overcome previously-unknown challenges, like choosing things like food to eat, or clothes to wear, or the never-ending task that was keeping both himself and his clothes clean; Cas had taken to all of these things with little complaint, and even a lot of wonder at times. But on the rare occasions they found themselves in situations where Cas’ former angel strength would have come in useful, a despairing kind of guilt settled over him. Dean knew the signs, and to head them off before Cas could latch on to them properly.

“This wall would be no-”

“Cas,” Dean cut him off again, raising a hand to cup around the back of his neck then shifting just enough to get himself a very awkward kiss, “look at all this stuff you already did; you’re doing great,”

Cas followed the gesturing of Dean’s hand down over his leg and sighed, still not seeming to be placated. “I used to be able to do much more,”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, squeezing Cas’ hands around his waist, “so? You’re here now, that’s what matters,”

“I could have freed us,” Cas said, shaking his head, “I could have healed your ankle-”

“Yeah, well; maybe I prefer this kinda hands-on healing you did for me more, huh?”

“Dean?”

“Maybe I like that you actually got your hands all over me for it, ‘stead of just… snapping your fingers,”

“I never snapped my fingers when I he-”

“Cas-”

Cas sighed instead of answering again, but the slight shift he gave told Dean he’d made headway into lifting his mood.

“Maybe,” Dean continued, twisting back a little more and kissing him again, “maybe I’m gonna need a couple of days to recover in that motel room of ours, 'til I can put weight on my leg again,”

“You will, of course, require complete bed rest,” Cas mused, sounding like he was plotting things Dean liked the idea of, even if he didn’t yet know what they were.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, wriggling back against him, “yeah, I will,”

“Perhaps,” Cas suggested, his hand unslotting from beneath Dean’s fingers and beginning a trail along Dean’s fly, “perhaps you will require distraction. From the pain,”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean agreed, telling himself Cas wasn’t planning on what he was thinking he was planning, “yeah, you know, now you mention it, I probably _do_ need some kinda distraction,”

“And of course,” Cas added, shifting and settling Dean back so that his head was resting on Cas’ now rolled-up jacket, “we should not leave… evidence,”

“Uh...” Dean began, but the words were soon all but sucked out of him, his moans bouncing in an echo around their cave-in and sounding far, far too loud. Yet perhaps not quite loud enough for just how good Cas’ mouth felt on him.

"Everything okay in there?"

Dean's groan of frustration was muffled by Cas' hand reaching up to clamp over his mouth; though looking down to see Cas' lips still wrapped around his length and slowly dragging their way up had his stomach jolt with lust that blasted further whimpers out from behind his fingers.

"We are fine," Cas called back in answer to the returning guide, his voice steady and calm, not revealing that the words were spoken in between licks of his tongue out and over Dean's cock, smirking every time he jolted. "Dean has a sprained ankle; otherwise, we are fine,"

"Good; we'll have you guys out of there in an hour or so, okay?" the guide called out again, sounding apologetic.

"We're good," Dean called back, clawing at Cas for him to sit up, immediately reaching to zip himself back up, "we'll... play eye spy or something to kill the time,"

Cas bat his hand away immediately, and Dean could see the glint in his eye by the beam of the flashlight as he ducked back down, whimpering at the warm lick of tongue darting out over his head again.

“Cas…” he said in a half-hearted protest, his head falling back with a thud as Cas sucked him down hard, and dragged his lips up his length once more then pulled off, wrapping his hand around him instead.

“We are distracting you,” he answered, a sinful squeeze and tug at just the right spot making Dean’s knees twitch further apart. Dean raised his head again, whimpering softly as Cas jerked him off, continually ducking to dart his tongue out over his head.

Soon their temporary chamber was filled with echoed attempts and failures by Dean to keep quiet, and the slight slick of skin on skin as Cas worked him faster, his own low moans adding to the sounds as evidence of how much he was enjoying himself as well.

“Cas…” Dean tried again, in desperate warning, then arched up uncomfortably as he came, falling back and jarring his ankle with a wince, that Cas immediately wrapped his hand around.

Dean looked down at himself, the splashes of come on his stomach already cooling, catching and glistening in the flashlight’s beam.

“We should clean you up,” Cas said, eyes on Dean the entire time as he shift up him, his warm breath making Dean’s stomach ripple.

“Yeah- yeah…” Dean stuttered, letting out another little whine at the feel of the tip of Cas’ tongue against his skin, unable to drag his eyes away as Cas worked, then smiling up at the ceiling as he followed it up moments later with a hand wipe that filled the air with a faint clean smell. Fighting back a laugh as Cas pulled out a small roll of bags and unwound one to scoop up their trash.

* * *

"...are you done?"

Dean grimaced and held the phone away from his ear, still able to hear Sam's raucous laughter despite the distance. Sam's reaction to Dean's call to say there was no case, but that they were staying a few days anyway, was met with nothing but knowing insinuation, and utter hilarity. Ignoring the reminder that since he'd been the one to technically raise Sam and was therefore kind of responsible for these occasional childish outbursts, Dean waited for the sound of laughter to subside a little before pulling the phone back to his ear.

"You're okay though, right?" Sam said eventually, his words still tinged with mirth.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, sighing hard, looking down at his foot wedged up on a stack of pillows and wriggling his toes, "just my ankle's all,"

"So, staying on your back with your legs elevated and all that?” Sam added, leaving Dean reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose and hold back a profanity-laden response.

“Something like that, yeah,”

Cas, though no longer angel, had impeccable hearing, Dean thought, looking up at him standing to the side of the bed, and seeing his mouth splitt into a wide smile on hearing Sam’s words. He kept eye contact with Dean, lazily pulling his t-shirt up over his head then shoving down his boxers, taking himself in hand and beginning a slow, languid stroke. Dean’s eyes dropped to watch it, his throat clicking involuntarily and his attention completely elsewhere from what Sam was saying on the phone.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Sam,”

“I said, what’s happening with this teacher? Think they’ll lose their job?”

“No idea,” Dean said absently, his eyes intent on watching the swirl of Cas’ thumb over his own cockhead, and his other hand dropping down to cup his balls. He even parted his legs a little to give Dean a better view, which Dean appreciated, no doubt about it. But it did make him forget his brother was there on the other end of the call.

“I mean, wanting to prank all the kids like that. He must’ve put a helluva lot of effort into planning it,”

“Mmhmm,”

“Taking advantage of the recent cave-ins. Setting up speakers and stuff to make that kinda noise; what’d he do, sneak in there or something? Go on a visit on his own beforehand?”

“Could be,” Dean said idly, too busy raising his hips up from the bed to allow Cas to slide his boxers down and off over his feet. He’d not bothered to put anything else on, given technically, he hadn’t left the bed since they’d returned to the motel room hours before. Cas straddling his thighs and dipping his fingers into himself - and smiling triumphantly at how easy that was, took Dean’s full attention; his heart thumping at the realisation of why Cas had been so long in the bathroom just minutes before.

“Guess if there’s no harm done though,” Sam continued; Dean closed his eyes and bit down hard on his lip to silence himself for the feel of Cas’ tongue out and lapping over him, a distracting appreciation for just how flexible Cas was being half the reason for having to fight back a groan.

“Yeah-”

“What about those cavers that went missing?” Sam asked then, just as Dean choked back a whimper for the way Cas raised and angled himself so Dean could watch as he thrust his now lubed-up fingers into himself.

“They turned up,” Dean stuttered out, pleading with himself to keep quiet.

“Good,”

“Uh huh…”

“So. You gonna be back in a day? Two days?” Sam asked, and Dean turned the phone just enough for him not to have heard his gasp for the way it felt as Cas shifted, mouthing his way up his length.

“I-”

“‘Cos I’m thinking,” Sam continued, an edge to his voice that normally Dean would look for as a source of teasing, “maybe Eileen can come and stay while you’re gone,”

“Can stay anyway,” Dean blasted back, desperately trying to keep quiet. Cas seemed intent on the exact opposite, however, for the way he plunged his fingers into himself from behind as he curled over to take Dean into his mouth.

“Yeah, I know,” Sam agreed, earnest, “I just… you know. Wanna know when you’re back so-”

“So we don’t walk in on you christening every surface?” Dean managed to fire back at him, just enough attention to focus in on what Sam was trying to tell him, watching everything Cas was doing and fighting with the urge to plant his feet flat on the bed to thrust up, drive into him in claim.

“Dean-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Dean all but yelled at him, riveted as Cas kneeled his way up the bed to settle over Dean’s hips, angling himself to tease over his now-leaking cock. “So we’re good? See you in a few days?”

“Sure. I… maybe text when you’re setting off or something, okay?”

“Sure,” Dean answered, greedily watching Cas line himself up, and hold himself open. “Gotta go-”

“Dean-”

But Dean ended the call and dropped his phone to the floor, at the exact time Cas began teasing his cock with his hole.

“Sam was correct; we should keep your leg elevated; you should keep very still,” Cas announced, solemn as ever, then sank down on him in one fluid movement, groaning as Dean slid home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it wasn't exactly a 'no plot' story, but more of a 'no case' story. Like traffic jams and all the other stuff that probably goes on and isn't on the screen, I won't be convinced that they wouldn't show up at a case from time to time to discover it wasn't a case at all... I love writing case fics, possibly more than any other, but sometimes... sometimes silliness beats all :)
> 
> Thank you for reading :) x


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